Catch a Wave

I write about storms often. To me they represent something both beautiful and terrifying. Life growth usually happens in and after storms, but wow, do we ever hate them when we’re in them. Lots of my friends have tattoos. Sometimes they ask me if I’m ever going to get one. I always say that it would need to be something that has significant meaning to me. Storms are one of those things, but I can’t imagine being satisfied with a little storm on my bicep. It would have to be huge and intimidating to fit the image I have of a decent storm. Life has been stormy around here lately. When you’re in the middle of it, you wonder if it’s going to destroy you, don’t you? I was water skiing one time as a boy and my mom was driving the boat. A storm blew in, and we were hustling back to our dock/lodging. I was huddled down on my seat under a towel when lightning struck the water somewhere nearby. I remember it being the loudest sound I had ever heard. I was fully expecting electricity to light us up and throw us onto the shore. Maybe that’s when I really learned to pray! But we made it back safely, and soon the storm blew over. During Push (our pre-service prayer time) on Sunday, one of the men reported something he saw. He explained that storms around here (GA) usually hug the ground, and all you can see in the midst of the storm is more storm. But he had been places (Texas) where he would see the storm rise up, and when you looked toward the horizon, you could see light on the other side. That’s what he saw; a dark storm, but when you looked toward the horizon, you could see light on the other side of the storm. As a former farmer from West Texas, I know that picture. We always knew that a storm wasn’t terribly intense when you could see daylight on the other side. What he saw has been a great source of encouragement to me. The longer I walk this life out, the more confidence I have in our God who loves to rescue, grow, discipline, teach, stretch and shape. And he regularly uses storms to do it. Learning his ways builds trust in him – read faith. Maybe even more than when he makes life easy, storms followed by rescue/deliverance build faith. Storms blow in, and you start looking around for how he’s going to rescue you this time. For him to give us a picture of hope and light on the other side of this storm is quite comforting. Embrace?

Ever since I read Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul, I have paid more attention to God using everyday events to speak to me or get my attention.  (Don’t let that sound too dramatic.  I’m sure I still miss most of it . . .)  In the book, Gire illustrates how God speaks to us through others, movies, art, circumstances etc etc etc.  Whenever I recognize God breaking through my dullness, I sometimes am left with symbols that are very meaningful to me.

Like storms.

First off, I was raised in West Texas.  Storms know how to storm in West Texas.  Storms are powerful and destructive.  But they also bring precious rain (in West Texas it might only rain 12-15 inches in a year).  So every storm was a torment of hope and fear.  One hail storm could ruin your crop.

And one good rain could result in thousands of dollars of increase in profit.

But what I’ve found is that storms of life are used by God.  Sometimes they are a really good test of whether your life is well grounded in God.  Sometimes God uses them to tear down our idols.  Sometimes I think they are the enemy trying to break us, and cause us to turn from God, like he tried to do with Job.  But any way you look at it, storms end up being two things.

Terrifying and beautiful.

So I’ve grown to appreciate storms for what they represent.  Every time a storm hits, the child of God can rest assured that God is doing something in his/her life.  As a result, I love art that depicts both the beauty and the power of a storm.

Storms and hard times = suffering for the sake of the Kingdom.  Beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

So I end with these final pictures.  In them, I see how God wants to empower us through the storms of life.  After all, he usually takes us through them rather than around them.